Much like a subtle spider, which doth sit In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide:If aught do touch the utmost thread of it, She feels it instantly on every side. Sir John DaviesThe Immortality of the Soul. Sec. XVIII. Feeling.

Or (almost) like a Spider, who, confindIn her Webs centre, shakt with every winde,Moves in an instant, if the buzzing FlieStir but a string of her Lawn Canopie. Du BartasDivine Weekes and Workes. First Week. Sixth Day. L. 998.